Part 8 - merciless
"You know what's so great about being a god?" Dean, no, Michael, it was Michael saying those words, not Dean, even if it was Dean's face that was staring back at Castiel with such cold hatred, a smile that was too sharp, too calculated, like a shark ready to clamp down on an unsuspecting prey, this was not Dean, could never be Dean. A bad imitation of the real thing. Castiel unconsciously flexed his fingers.
"I don't know," Castiel answered after a moment, realizing Michael actually wanted him to say something. He fought the urge to flinch and take a step back when Michael took a casual step toward him. "But you're not a god, Michael. You're an archangel." He wasn't sure why he was still talking. He was just going to piss Michael off if he continued. He could see it in the archangel's eyes, the way they narrowed, as he watched him. He should just stop but it was like he didn't have full control over his mouth. "You're just an archangel," he found himself repeating, his voice low, like he was telling that to himself, but Michael could hear him, with the way his lips curled in a sneer, yeah he definitely heard it.
Do you have a freaking death wish or something, Cas? He could picture Dean shouting at him.
"What are you trying to say, little brother?" Michael demanded, taking another menacing step.
Castiel stood his ground. His heart was thundering. He wasn't sure if he could die here or getting 'killed' by Michael would just send him back to his body, but both possibilities were not good. He'd be away from Dean either way. The whole point in coming here was to wake Dean up so that he could take control and kick Michael out.
He should stop while he's ahead. Don't provoke the fucker any further, imaginary Dean barked. Dean was right. But Castiel still said, "You can be stopped. You're an archangel, not god, so you can be beat. We're going to find a way to end you." He wasn't sure if that was a threat or a promise but he knew, deep down, he meant it.
Michael stilled for a moment and Castiel closed his eyes, waiting for the blast of white light to send him either back to the present or to his death, but instead, he was met with a low chuckle. He opened his eyes again to see that Michael was looking at him with a smirk. "You think you can beat me? You're a foolish little angel, Castiel," he sneered, and to emphasize his point, he slowly brought his hand out, as if to grab Castiel. Castiel felt himself jerked up by an invisible force. His throat was slowly being crushed and he coughed and sputtered, trying to take in air even as Michael tightened his grip. A moment before he felt like he was going to pass out, the grip on his throat loosened enough for him to suck in a gasping breath of air. "You see, brother, you're nothing to me. You are all nothing!" Then suddenly he was being flung across the alleyway, his body impacting against the wall hard enough for pain to shoot through his body. He groaned in pain, barely able to move. He wasn't sure how he could feel pain when he wasn't even in his physical body.
He could hear the heavy footsteps of his brother as Michael came over to him, crouching down and grasping his chin in a tight and painful grip. Michael lifted his head so that he could see him. "Look at me, Cassie," he hissed, "you feeling this?" He felt his head jerked back, Michael's fingers twisting his hair painfully. He couldn't help the small hiss of pain that escaped him. It seemed to satisfy Michael because he smiled, "Yeah. It hurts, doesn't it, brother? As I told Dean countless times, pain's all about perspective. I can make you feel whatever I want in here." His smile had none of the warmth Dean's smile would have. It looked wrong, so fucking wrong. Castiel grit his teeth. "I'm gonna show you just how worthless you really are. You want to save Dean that bad? Look at you. You're fucking pathetic. You can't even save yourself."
Castiel had no idea how long he had been at Michael's mercy but the fact that his brother was slowly growing bored with taunting him had him thinking it might have been a couple hours. He had let Castiel go and healed him enough so that Castiel could stand and fight him again, only to be mercilessly tossed around like a rag doll. Castiel wasn't sure why he kept getting back up though. It seemed pointless since Michael could just throw him against the wall without even lifting a finger. It went on and on like this for a while, until Castiel was starting to think maybe Michael was right, maybe he was too strong, and what was the point of being here to save Dean if he couldn't even save himself?
He was starting to get worn down and considered, briefly, if maybe laying down and surrendering was an option. His arm had been broken and healed back up numerous times, same thing with his legs, his ribs. Michael would toss him around a few times and Castiel would groan at the pain, the impact of the wall hard and painful enough to break something. He'd try to crawl to get away but Michael caught him every time and he'd taunt him, tell him that this was what he did to Dean when he would scream so loud in his head and he thought the human needed to be taught a lesson. He'd taunt Dean, tell him how weak he was, the reason everyone abandoned him was because he wasn't good enough, wasn't fast enough or strong enough or smart enough.
"I'd tell him that Sam's the favorite son, that dad always loved Sammy best. He'd be down and groaning in pain and I'd crouch in front of him just like this and I'd grip his hair and jerk him up so that he's staring up at me and I'd tell him all the truths he didn't want to hear. He'd try to fight but it's pointless. You see that, don't you, Cassie? You can struggle all you want but you can't hide from the truth. He tried to bury it deep down inside him but I saw straight through him. His worthlessness, his pathetic need to be seen and loved, you finally get it, don't you? No matter how hard you try, you'll never be able to save him. Before he let me in, his life was meaningless. Everyone's abandoned him. His mother. His father. His own brother. And now you. And the only thing he'll have is me. I'm going to kill you both in the real world and that final push is going to send Dean spiraling back in here, so far buried, it's going to be like he never existed at all. Then I'm going to have my monster army destroy this world and god, Chuck, he's going to have no choice but to come to me and when he does, I'm going to ask him why he abandoned me when all I ever did was everything he asked of ME, and after he answers me, I'm going to crush him. He's going to be nothing but dirt underneath my boot. You get me?" Michael's eyes were wild with rage and Castiel suddenly realized, there was no talking his brother out of this crazy plan of his. Michael was gone. Long gone. Since his fight with Lucifer in which he killed his younger brother, the spark that made Michael who he was, it had been lost to an endless sea of grief and anger and pain filled betrayal. He was going to see this through to the end unless someone could stop him.
But Michael was wrong. Castiel might not be able to save both Michael and Dean somehow but there was no way that he was going to leave Dean. Not like this, prisoner in his own mind, tortured by an archangel he could have considered a brother, even from a timeline that wasn't his own. He was going to make it right. He had to.
